Ringing In A New Year
by solista
Summary: Johnny becomes the Lancer 'First Footer' in the New Year, and begins to see the Lancer heritage.


**Ringing-In A**

 **New Year**

He sat and watched from his concealed vantage point in the hay loft. Below him the pretty petite young woman fisted hands on slender hips, stomped her booted foot as she turned her head from left to right, looking for….

Stifling a chuckle, Johnny Lancer lay back on the fresh, sweet hay, a stray piece clutched in his teeth as he rejoiced in putting-one past his 'sister'.

He could hear the nicker of the horses as someone entered the barn. Laying still he listened with well-tuned ears.

"Johnny," the call drifted up to him. Whoa, that was not T'resa's voice, and it wasn't tha Ol' Man, "brother I know you are in here," a smile tipped his lips up, Scott.

Dios, how could he have allowed any one, let alone an Eastern Dandy, get their hooks so deep into him that if anything happened to them his own heart would be shredded and he would die in little pieces.

To find out, the way he had, about a brother he had never been told about was to say it plain, dried the spit up in his mouth and caused his heart to beat against his chest like a run-away stampede.

And it surprised the devil outta him that he had been missing this piece of his life and he wanted it, badly.

"Boy, I know you are in here if you know what's good for you, you will post haste form a line in front of me, now," the order of a regimental commander, used to getting his way, was just below a bellow and much stronger than that of an older, wiser big brother.

With a sigh, Johnny tossed the chewed piece of straw away and rolled over to look down on his brother below. Pushing a clump of hay over the ledge the resounding bellow below and the ungentlemanly curse was enough to make the ex-gunfighter laugh out loud.

When the sound of a booted foot fitting into the first rung of the ladder reached him, Johnny grinned and stood up.

 ***L***

Slouching in the chair before his father's big oaken desk, arms crossed over his stomach and chin resting on his chest, Johnny could still hear the droning of his big brother.

"Are you even listening to me," Scott's question hit him, he wasn't even sure what the lecture was all about in the first place.

"Nope," came the one word reply. Scott sat back in the large swivel chair of their father's and shook his head at his recalcitrant little brother, "then let me reiterate so there is no misunderstanding."

Sitting up Johnny looked up from under thick lashes, blue eyes with a defiance that made you realize that no matter what was said or done, all was a lost cause.

"No, you don't gotta go over it again, I got it tha first time," pushing himself up and standing with his gunfighter stance, ready to 'dance', "an' I'm still gonna say, no."

"Oh Johnny, it would mean so much to your father," Teresa jumped up from the other chair and put a small hand in his arm to hold him in place, "please. I won't ask you to do anything else for the party."

Pulling his blue eyes away from Scott he looked down on Teresa, "ya promise," as his eyes pinned her down.

"An' you make it right with tha Ol' Man I don't gotta eat none o' that sheep stomach stuff and green vegetables," waiting for an answer as Teresa bit her lower lip he smiled.

With a nod of her head, "yes I'll make it right with Murdoch."

Swinging his head back to his brother, "an' I ain't wearin' no dress, an' plaid just ain't my style."

Scott suppressed a snort and looked hard at his brother, "I will tell our father no kilt, but brother the plaid is a part of our history," with a satisfied look on his face, Scott smiled, "I'll figure something out that even you will be pleased with."

With an abrupt turn, Johnny high-tailed it out the double doors of the great room and into the fresh air of a fine winters day, his spurs marking time to his fast-paced walk.

Scott and Teresa watched the departing backside of their brother, "well that went well", Scott crowed with delight.

Teresa clapped her hands, "and I did promise I would make it right with Murdoch, now Maria is something he never brought up."

Scott looked at the young woman, pointing one slender finger towards her, "oh Miss Teresa, it looks like you have picked up some of my bad habits."

 ***L***

Giving the golden palomino one final pat to his strong neck, Johnny turned from the stall and fastened the door. Bending he grabbed up the empty feed bucket and strolled in a leisurely manner to the feed box, hanging the empty pail on a nail, he grinned to himself.

Thinking back to the combined efforts of his, big brother and 'think of me as a sister', siblings enticing him into playin' that 'first footer' feller on New Year's Eve was a hoot. He sat and let them run their gambit, all the while keeping his own council and the fact he had spoken to Murdoch earlier.

Earlier in The Day

"So, this Hog-mamy thing is part o' my Scots heritage," Johnny eyed his father with questioning blue eyes.

"Hogmanay, yes Johnny a very big part of your heritage," Murdoch Lancer smiled in remembrances of his joyful past New Year's celebrations in his homeland of Scotland, "and since you are the 'dark-haired' stranger for the Lancer celebration, I had hoped you would make me happy and be my 'first footer'."

Johnny tilted his head, slightly, to the side and looked up at his father through thick dark eyelashes.

A smile tilting his lips to one side, "so what's this 'first footer' feller gotta do, exactly?"

Johnny had a feeling of being a part of something big, something important, something that brought him 'home' as he listened to his father's explanation of Hogmanay.

Marveling at how his hard-as-nails father's voice softened and his granite face took on a younger appearance as he spoke about his joyful youth in Scotland, made Johnny realize that he was a part of a family larger than just Lancer.

He had never really thought about family and heritage, that is, not after he picked up the gun and his sole purpose was to 'be good at his trade', and to stay alive.

As Murdoch described the event to take place, Johnny could see it in his active imagination, it helped that his father was a 'great' story teller and he could see the words come alive.

Here was a cozy room filled with friends and family, happy, carefree and the love, drenching the room, as each guest, standing in a circle, cross over their arms, holding hands and singing Robert Burns' "Auld Lang Syne".

Scott was always talkin' 'bout family and heritage, well if he had ta wear plaid an' carry coal, shortbread, salt, black bun, whatever that was, and whiskey he would do it for his father, brother and a growing circle of friends, then he'd be this 'first footer', but no skirt or guts, thank you.

 **New Year's Eve**

The Lancer great room was silent as the loud knock on the door heralded the coming of the 'first footer'.

Murdoch opened the heavy oaken door and stood back, pride in his face and love in his heart as his younger son, his dark-haired baby boy, stepped across the threshold bearing gifts for the New Year.

Johnny had a shy smile on his handsome face as he greeted the patron. His fine charro suit made the young man look like a rich hacendado and the colorful plaid of the Lancers heritage circled his waist and draped down his silver studded pants leg.

Scott was standing beside Teresa, one hand held a glass of the finest sipping Scotch whiskey the other lay gently on his 'sisters' small shoulder. He smiled at his younger brothers' shyness.

Here was the gunfighter, Johnny Madrid, feared across the Mexican border and if you could see under the dark tan of his skin, you would surely see a blush from his neck all the way to the top of his dark-haired head.

Teresa had her hands clasp and held in front of her mouth, stifling a gasp as she watched her 'brother' step across the threshold. His beautiful, expressive eyes, filled with love as they looked up into the eyes of his father and glanced around to find his brother and herself, he was 'home'.

Breaking eye contact, Johnny grinned, the 'Johnny' smile. That lit up the room as no candle could, and the warmth spread through everyone present.

He handed the small bag containing the coal, a box that contained the shortbread and black bun and the bottle of the finest whiskey ever made in Scotland to the master of the house, "these gifts I bring on the eve of a New Year may they ensure that your household will be safe and warm and have enough food for the year."

Scott snorted at the last and Teresa poked him in his side with her elbow, they both beamed at the younger Lancer male as he was engulfed by his father's hug.

 ***L***

The air was cool, the stars so bright in the sky over head and the moon full. Crossing his arms over his chest he brought the glass of whiskey to his lips and sipped.

A smile formed on his lips as the liquor went down his throat, smooth as honey, 'you can't just guzzle fine drink like this 'little' brother. You need to tip just a bit, let it rest on your tongue then let it slowly slide down to sit eloquently in your stomach,' with a shake of his head he could still hear Scott's tolling of the virtues of 'sipping fine whiskey'.

Listening with one ear to the festivities still underway behind him, Johnny leaned on the low adobe wall.

That song Murdoch had them all learn and sing was somethin' else. Foreign words 'Auld Lang Syne,' why didn't they just say, 'long time ago,' an' that part about tha past an' 'never brought to mind'.

Is that where tha Ol' Man got that "the past is past," spiel he gave Scott and himself when they first arrived.

Strange words, strange country that Scotland.

Taking another small, slow sip of his fine Scottish whiskey, Johnny contemplated his past year at Lancer, at home with a father and a brother and a 'think of me as your sister'. Considering his 'past' as a gunfighter and a man who 'hated' with no future and no family.

The sound of a bootheel on the flagstone patio had him shift to one side as a lean, slender body propped himself up on the adobe wall beside him, "Scott."

"Johnny," the brothers stood shoulder to shoulder, no dialog between them, there was no need, for the moment.

The air was cool, and the sky bright with a full moon. The land glowed under the moon light and the last of the fireworks filled the small breeze with Sulphur, "in Boston," Scott said quietly in deference to the silent night, "the party would go on until the early day break. The first of the year was brought in with much pomp and circumstance," his voice drifted off.

Johnny shifted and his shoulder butted into his brother's, "yeah, but ya didn't have tha Ol' Man callin' tha tune an' ya didn't haveta get up at the as… ah crack o' dawn."

Scott sipped his whiskey and nodded, "true, very true little brother. Our father may see fit to bring in the New Year with great glory and historical fact, however, pity the man not at his station come roll-call."

Slightly turning towards Scott, Johnny leaned his side on the adobe wall, his dark-haired head tilted, a smile on his face as he contemplated his words, "I never woulda thought I'd be here, at Lancer, standin' beside my brother, friends an' family gathered up behind me in a fancy hacienda, hell I already had one foot in tha grave."

Nodding, Scott agreed, "and I was on a one-way trip to nothing. Oh money, prestige, the world at my feet, but my life was empty. I had no idea what I was missing, but then…"

"Tha 'pinks' brought a summons from Murdoch Lancer," Johnny grinned.

Scott raised his glass, "with a one-thousand-dollar incentive."

"And every cent I spent, bringing my son's home, was worth it," Murdoch joined his sons.

Placing a large work rough hand on his younger son's shoulder, "John, thank you for your participation tonight."

Murdoch squeezed gently, "I haven't had the heart to celebrate in the old ways for many years. I was missing my family. Each year the same disappointment, the same harsh memories, until now."

Raising his glass of the finest Scotch whiskey, the father waited as his sons raised their own, "to a new year, a new beginning."

Scott clinked his glass to that of his father, "to the reunion of a father to his sons and brother to brother."

Johnny clinked his glass once to his father and once to his brother, "a New and Prosperous Year to Lancer and Family."

 **Happy New Year**


End file.
